


A Discordance of Emotions

by rufferto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, No underage as this is after Stiles is 18, Romance, Steter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-13 01:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11174385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: Stiles returns back to Beacon Hills during Spring Break from DC only to find that his desire for Peter Hale has NOT gone away.It seems the feeling is mutual but Peter refuses to let anything happen.Stiles does not appreciate Peter making decisions for both of them so takes matters into his own hands.





	1. Chapter 1

Just when he thought he had got over it, there Peter was. Standing there in his tight black jeans and V-neck olive green shirt that hugged his arm muscles in truly obscene ways. There was Peter Hale in all his glory, on the other side of the room, as far away from Stiles as he could get.

It was downright annoying. Stiles grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

He stared at Peter with a sigh. He’d never change, and would never acknowledge the shit that was between them and it would always be like this. Across the room, Peter was talking with Malia about colleges and was pretending to listen to her.

Stiles was back briefly for Spring Break hoping the wolf would have got over it, only to be given the cold shoulder. Peter barely acknowledged Stiles was in a room let alone said two words to him. Stiles was pleasantly surprised to hear how much Peter had been trying to get on with his life. He was done with scheming and all that he did lately was try and support the new pack as best he could and as much as they would let him.

Peter still kept to himself, still lived alone and barely acknowledged anyone outside of pack meetings except for his daughter. If the rumors were true he spent a lot of time hunting with Chris Argent to blow off steam, or something.

Stiles wasn’t jealous.

If the Wolf had continued to completely ignore him he would be fine. But the night before he left with Lydia to DC Peter had showed up in his bedroom, a complete wreck, and wouldn’t tell him why.

Peter had simply crawled into his bed and nuzzled his neck, “Just let me, Stiles. I won’t hurt you. Just this once. Let me touch you.”

Stiles had surrendered to a dark desire he’d suppressed for years. He’d let Peter’s hands wander over his body. He’d let the older man lick him in places no man should. He’d let Peter explore his body. He’d never felt anything so amazing in his life. His experiences with Malia and with Lydia did not compare and yet, that had involved dicks being in things and actual sex. This was more like worship. He had a sneaking suspicion it was more than that, but who was he going to ask or tell? Who would even believe him?

That’s all it was, just touching, and a very embarrassing tongue thing. Peter had probably licked every inch of his body but nothing more than that. He hadn’t tried to have sex, hadn’t even tried to take Stiles’ cock or fuck him. Stiles, he would have welcomed it the moment Peter’s tongue got near his cock. Stiles body had reacted, however, reacted with clear want and need. Yet, he’d been too terrified to move or initiate anything himself.

When he was satisfied, the wolf had held him tightly and left before Stiles woke up. There had been a simple note.

“Good-bye, Stiles.”  - P

The note had felt so final, like Peter had simply let him go and didn’t give him a say in the matter. It rankled and he’d left several text messages. Peter responded to none, then changed his number.

It was honestly driving Stiles crazy. He’d been gone a whole semester and hadn’t come back for Christmas or Thanksgiving. It was too far to fly and he was too freaked out by Peter’s behavior. He couldn’t even ask anyone. Not something like this.

“Hey,” Scott wandered up to his best friend and waved a hand in front of his face.

“Huh?” Stiles gave a startled shudder and hoped Scott hadn’t smelled anything off him.

“You were staring off into space, you alright? I called you three times.” Scott gave him a worried look.

Stiles shook his head.  “No, but I’ll be fine, just give me a minute. I need to stay and talk to Peter about something.”

Peter got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. Stiles watched him, and not because his ass looked so damned good in those jeans, no. He just had to know. He needed to know what that night had been all about.

“Whatever dude.” Scott cuffed Stiles playfully and he shrugged him off. “Just wanted to tell you I’m heading home. Malia wanted me to drop her off. You coming?”

Stiles’ shook his head, pleased to see Malia and Scott getting along so well.   “I’ll walk home.” Stiles patted his buddy on the back. “Besides, I think Malia wants to talk to you.”

“What?” Scott squawked.  It was almost funny, the terrified expression but he did take Malia with him.

Eventually they left and Stiles remained behind in the loft.

Peter leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him. “Why are you still here, Stiles?” He asked in a gruff, indifferent tone.

“You owe me an explanation.” Stiles crossed his arms and uncrossed them. Uncomfortable and yet sure he was in no danger. Still, he kept his distance.

“I owe you nothing.” Peter lifted his chin loftily, betraying nothing.

The wolf had such a way of sounding superior that it irked Stiles and set his hackles up.

“Sure about that?” Stiles couldn’t believe how even his voice sounded. His palms were a little sweaty now and every muscle was tense as he stared down the older man.

“Leave.” Peter said with finality.

That just irritated Stiles all the more and he muttered a curse under his breath as he strode to the kitchen.

Peter looked at him and didn’t budge or react.

Stiles could feel an electric current between them the closer he got. He kept moving until he was a foot away from Peter and lost his nerve. He stepped back and bumped into a counter.

Peter just laughed harshly. “You don’t have any clue what you’re asking and you’re not ready for the answer. One semester of college does not make you ready, either.”

“You’re an asshole.” Stiles grumbled.

“Go home, Stiles.” Peter said again. “Go back to DC. Go back to your girlfriend and leave well enough alone. I will not apologize for what I did, if that is what you are looking for.”

“So you admit it!” Stiles jabbed a finger at him excitedly. “It did happen. I wasn’t imagining it.”

“No, of course you weren’t.” Peter snorted. “And I admit nothing.”

“Lydia isn’t my girlfriend anymore. We tried, it didn’t work out.” Stiles very carefully clarified that he was as free as a bird.

“That doesn’t change anything.” Peter said sharply. A little too sharply.

Stiles detected the muscle jump in Peter’s neck. “Maybe I want what you do?”

“You don’t.”

“Try me.”

“No.” Peter grunted and ran a hand through his hair. “It doesn’t matter, Stiles. There is three years, six months and fifteen days before you might even consider coming home for good. And even then? Why would you want to live here? Your job will send you all over.”

Stiles grinned suddenly, he grinned broadly and with triumph. “You’re counting the days.”

“I am not.” Peter snorted defensively. “Everyone knows that.”

“Scott doesn’t, and he’s my best friend. Pretty sure it’s only you and my dad. How badly do you want me?” Stiles asked curiously. “I mean, you never once touched me until that last night.  I didn’t have a clue.”

“Well, _that_ much is true,” Peter smirked.

“Ha, Ha,” Stiles grouched.

“Would it help if I told you I fantasize about you?” Stiles leaned back on the counter, legs slightly parted as he watched the wolf’s reaction. He’d bring down those barriers if it killed him.

Peter scoffed. “You don’t. You fantasize about the idea of me.”  
  
“What do you mean exactly?”

Peter finally put some distance between them and walked away from the kitchen. He stood at the window and ran his hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how it feels to want someone who hates you? And you do, Stiles. You really do. Just like the others.”

“You got better…” Stiles muttered. “Are you rejecting me because you think I can’t feel anything for you?”  From the look on Peter’s face he knew he was right. He almost felt bad.

Peter refused to answer, “Just go.”

Stiles reached up to grip his hair in frustration. So now he knew that Peter liked him. More than liked him. Peter might even be in love with him. The thought made Stiles’ cock ache and body shiver with aching want. No one had ever really desired him before. Like truly in that mad insane way. The kind of desire Allison and Scott had had.

And yet, Peter did.

“I’m going to wear you down.” Stiles declared. He’d figure out some way to win Peter Hale, even from the other side of the continent.

Peter barked out a laugh, clearly not believing him in the slightest.  “You and what army?”

“I don’t need an army,” said Stiles as he pushed himself off the counter. “And you’re going to drive me home.”

“Am I?” Peter raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. And we’re going to talk.” Stiles responded.

“And exactly how are you going to make me do all of this?” Peter folded his arms.

“I’ll think of something on the way down to your car.” Stiles assured him. 

“What are we going to talk about, your Base Ball cards?” Peter asked snidely as he grabbed his jacket.  He about dared Stiles to comment that he didn’t need convincing to take him home.

“I haven’t had any interest in baseball since I was 8, -oh.” Stiles sighed, a little crushed to realize that Peter had just implied they didn’t have anything in common.

He edged to the other side of the Elevator while Peter stood firmly in the middle.

“I’m not wrong,” Peter noted. “I read you loud and clear Stiles. You haven’t been subtle and I’m sure Liam is going to give me an earful, annoying little asshole that he is.” He rolled his shoulders with a little huff.  “Sometimes I miss Scott being the only Alpha.”

“What’s wrong with a little ass on the side?” Stiles inquired glibly. “I’m not asking you to marry me, I just want you to fuck me.”

Peter had to laugh at that, “There’s a lot you need to learn about Werewolves, Stiles.”  He reached over and gripped Stiles by the back of his neck only to shove him forward out of the elevator. “You can walk home if you’re such a big boy.” The smirk on Peter’s lips grew as he sauntered out of the elevator.

“You’re infuriating!” Stiles sighed. “I never know if you’re teasing or serious,” he complained.

“It’s what we Adults call being unpredictable.” Peter chuckled as he pulled out his car keys.

“You’re like the KING of unpredictable, it is not _fair._ ” Stiles scowled. “You’ve known for _ages_ and you won’t do anything about it. Nor are you making yourself unavailable by taking up with someone else.”

“Because in the history of bad ideas it’s the worst.” Peter got into the driver’s seat. “Get in.”

“What’s so bad about it?” As far as Stiles was concerned having sex with Peter could be the highlight of his whole existence. It would make having to go back to DC all that much more tolerable if he knew Peter was pining for him in Beacon Hills. Not just tolerable, he’d live from that knowledge alone.

Peter set the car keys in the ignition but he didn’t start the car. He turned deliberately to Stiles and exhaled slowly. “What’s bad is that I know you’re not coming back here for good, Stiles.”

“Who says?”

“Listen to me carefully, Stiles. I’m only going to say all of this once.  When you make FBI, and you will, you’ll be travelling everywhere. Me? I’m not leaving Beacon Hills in this lifetime.” Peter actually looked a little sad. “If you let me touch you, let me fuck you and let me do all the debauched things I want to do to you I would completely ruin you.”

Peter ever so gently touched Stiles’ face as his knuckles brushed along his jaw. “That part of you which makes my gut twist in knots will die out.  That spark that makes me want so much to sink my teeth into your neck and claim you would be gone. You have no idea how much I want to not care, how much I just want to take what you’re offering. This is not easy for me, it is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but you are better off without me complicating your life any more than I already have. You know it’s true, deep down. Not only that but I couldn’t handle it.”

Stiles stared at Peter in absolute amazement. Was he actually getting a confession? His mouth dropped in surprise.

“I’d want more. I’d want so much more that you couldn’t, and rightfully shouldn’t, give me.” Peter extended his fingers so that he could touch Stiles’ hair. His lips curled in a fierce snarl.  “I’d want to keep you. I’d want to tear anyone else to pieces who dared touch you. I’d want to hold on to you until my claws drew the last shred of blood from your veins. I’d want desperately to love you like you deserve to be loved, so much so that I would _kill_ for it. And that, Stiles, is our tragedy, because I am incapable of love. The part of me who could love was burned out of me when my family died.  So please, listen to what I’m telling you and let me take you home. Let your father send you back to the other side of the continent and we’ll never speak of this again. Find someone your own age, raise a family far, far away from me and don’t ask for any kind of future for us. It’s never going to happen.”

So, not a confession, exactly, more a warning.  Stiles sighed. Stubborn asshole. Perhaps he had a thing for them. Stiles grimaced. “You don’t leave me much of a choice, I guess I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

Peter frowned. He didn’t like the calculating look in Stiles’ eyes. “Stiles?”

Stiles scowled, really starting to get ticked off at the way Peter was deciding everything for them. That was it.  He’d made his decision.  Stiles growled, turned his head and suddenly gripped Peter’s arm. “You’re wrong when you say I don’t know much about Werewolves, I do know _one_ thing.” Before the wolf could react, Stiles lowered his head and bit hard, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Peter _howled_ in surprise and anger. “Stiles!”

Once he tasted blood, Stiles let Peter’s arm go and his own eyes flashed brightly. He gave Peter a smug look. “You don’t get to decide my life.” He told the wolf sharply. “Only I can, and I just _did_.”

Peter snarled in rage, wrenched himself out of the car, backed away from it and took off.

It was not quite the response Stiles had been hoping for. For a long moment he just sat there in the passenger seat breathing heavily. He waited for a few hours but Peter didn’t come back, after what he had just done Stiles wasn’t surprised.  No matter what happened now, he knew things were about to get interesting.

He had just initiated a mating ritual that could not be undone. It was just too bad he was leaving for DC the next day. Stiles was sure of one thing, he was going to have Peter Hale one way or the other.  He turned on the car and plugged in his address in DC into the GPS. He also left his phone number and stashed his over-shirt under the driver’s side of Peter’s car.  He’d considered pissing on it but that wasn’t as subtle. Peter would smell him for a while and eventually the wolf would give in. Now that he had his suspicions about how deep Peter’s feelings ran, he was determined to see this through.

Stiles would just have to bide his time.  He knew what he’d done was not exactly honorable, but Stiles was an asshole too and could certainly handle the moral issue.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets more than he bargained for from a Phone call with Stiles.

Peter sighed as he looked at the ceiling of the dingy motel he had camped out in for the past week. It wasn’t his usual style. There wasn’t anyone he could talk to about this dilemma. He’d tried to talk to Chris about it but Argent wasn’t impressed and mentioned something about Peter needing therapy. That was a thing he wasn’t wrong about, of course.  He stared at his gin glass and looked across hotel room. Was he really doing the right thing? He had been trying for a while. His relationship with Stiles was complicated at best, what there was of it, anyway.

There was nothing he liked better than the art of the chase. He loved to hunt down his prey, make it twitch and worry for hours and then finally strip it bare of all courage. In this case, he was not the hunter. The motel in Houston was one he’d been to a few times before. Each time promising himself that he would not get this far towards the east coast again in order to pursue Stiles. Each time running back to Beacon Hills with his pride intact but his tail between his legs.

He had no choice anymore.

He couldn’t sleep ever since their last encounter. He could barely think and his wolf was not letting him turn around this time. He had to keep going. He was miserable and there wasn’t any other way to handle this.

He was over half way there.

His cellphone rang, Derek’s number.

“Peter?” It wasn’t Derek on the line. “Don’t hang up.”

Stiles’ voice sent shivers through Peter’s spine. “Yes,” his response was clipped. “What do you want?”

“Where are you?”

“Why?”

“I’m back home for the weekend and I went to your apartment. It was locked up.” Stiles’ voice sounded hurt. “Derek wouldn’t tell me where you were so I stole his phone.”

“You stole Derek’s phone? Why didn’t you use yours?” Peter smiled in spite of his annoyance. “You’re in Beacon Hills?”

“Dad paid for a ticket home after I begged him.” Stiles exhaled. “And of course I did, you won’t answer my number.” He took a deep breath and spoke in a tone of voice that made it clear he wanted the question understood and fucking answered. “Where _are_ you?”

“Not in Beacon Hills.” Peter smirked.

“ _No Shit_ , Jackass.” Stiles snarled. “Listen, I shouldn’t have left things as I did. I wanted to talk to you more but I kind of expected you would get the hint.”

“You mean the Neon message over your head in loud pink colors? That “hint”?”

“Shut up.” Stiles groaned. “I know it was obvious. I want to see you.”

“We can’t always get what we want, Stiles. What would be the fun in that?”  Peter was really enjoying the sound of desperation in Stiles’ voice. It made him feel better about the past few months. “Did you really not find anyone in Washington willing to fuck you?”

“Tons of people!” Stiles indignantly snorted.

“Tons, huh?” Peter smirked. “And you’re on the phone with me to what, compare notes? So much experience in so short a time. My, my.”

“No, you … argh! I hate you.” Stiles sighed. “When are you coming back?”

“I’ll be gone about a month.” Peter said matter-of-factly. “And you don’t hate me.”

Stiles’ voice deflated. He sounded miserable and Peter’s heart clenched just a little. “Oh. So you really aren’t here? You’re not just avoiding me?”

“No, I’m really not.” Peter sat down in the motel room. He cradled the phone in his ear and fought a wistful sigh. It wouldn’t do any good to let Stiles know how much he wished he was home. “Maybe if you had let someone know?”

“You’re saying you would be available if I had?” Stiles prodded.

“Stiles,” Peter ran a hand through his hair. He debated telling Stiles where he was and what he was doing.

“Facetime me,” Stiles said suddenly. “I know your phone has it.”

That was the king of bad ideas. Peter squirmed. On the one hand he really wanted to see Stiles, on the other, the resulting heartache might just kill him. He relented because the wolf wouldn't let him back out. “Fine.” He sighed dramatically.

They connected pretty easily, in spite of the spotty service at the motel. Stiles looked relieved to see that Peter was in one piece and then promptly wrinkled his nose. “That’s not your usual style.” He looked somehow relieved too.

Peter finished off the drink he’d been nursing and cleared his throat. He looked away from the screen briefly and back at Stiles. In his entire life he’d never experienced a consuming need to touch someone else. And now? Now he wanted to. He wanted to reach out and take what was being offered. His defenses were down and he swallowed. “So, you’ve seen me. Now what?” He could always fall back on sarcasm. It never failed him before.

“I’ve missed you,” offered Stiles with an uncharacteristically bleak expression. “And I’ve wracked my brains but I don’t know how to get through to you. I fully planned on seducing you when I got out here but you’re not here and now that I’ve seen you, I just. Do you know how much I want you? No, you do. I know you do. I can’t imagine three years of this. So I have a solution.”

“You do?” Peter folded his arms and listened curiously.  His heart clenched a little at the tone of Stiles’ voice.

“We have a weekly date.” Stiles said with a smile. “I mean internet date, face-time chat. At least then we can try and talk to each other and see how it goes?”

It wasn’t a bad idea, actually. Peter exhaled. Half the problem was that he was sure he and Stiles had nothing in common and couldn’t make a go of it even if he did decide to let the wolf have his way.  If he wanted to open up. The wolf inside was grumbling at him. He should just tell Stiles where he was, but that would be admitting defeat and he wasn’t quite ready for that yet. He finally nodded, “Alright.”

Stiles, as it turned out, never was a loss for words and for the next two hours Peter and Stiles talked a little. Stiles more than Peter. That suited the wolf just fine because he was better at listening anyway. He listened to him talk about the program he was in and how Raphael had helped him get into an accelerated course which meant it might take less time than anticipated. Unfortunately, the wolf in him was getting randy. Hearing Stiles’ voice was almost like being dangled a drug he couldn’t take. He tried not to let it affect him but the wolf was not behaving.

“Peter!” Stiles said loudly as if trying to get his attention.

“Huh? I was listening.” Peter blinked.

“You were staring off into space, biting your lip and your arm was moving.” Stiles smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were jerking off.”

Peter shifted his eyes away from the phone and schooled his expression to hide the sheer horrified yelp that he’d been about to utter.

Because, Stiles was right.

He was painfully hard, and his hand was over his cock since he’d been palming himself.

_Well, Fuck._

Stiles, the bastard, knew. Peter squinted at the phone. He’d at least waited until it was obvious and didn’t let Peter finish.

“You know, you don’t have to stop doing what you’re doing.” Stiles leaned forward. “Would you like me to help?”

“How could you possibly help?” Peter blurt out in annoyance.

“Easily,” Stiles grinned. “Take off your jeans and feel free to let me watch.”

“No.” Peter snapped, about the letting him watch bit. To his complete chagrin he found himself unzipping his pants and kicking them off. His cock sprang free happily and he groaned. “Fuck.”

Stiles watched with interest, on the edge of his seat. “I want to see, but I have a feeling you’re not going to show me. How do you feel?”

“Dizzy,” Peter admitted.

“When’s the last time you’ve been with anyone?” Stiles wondered casually.

Peter gave him a sharp look. “I’m not answering that.” He looked away. “It’s been a while.”

“Want to know what I’d be doing if I was there?”

“Not really,” Peter lied. His wolf wanted to know. He wanted to know very much. “But I have the feeling that you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You could always hang up.” Stiles offered with a cheeky smirk.

The challenge was not lost on Peter he slowly smiled. “No.” He’d plugged his cellphone in.

“So anyway.” Stiles cracked his knuckles and glanced over his shoulder and looked back. “The first thing I’d do is kiss you because you clearly need to be kissed. You’re just begging for someone to wipe the smirk of your lips and take command of your tongue. I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for the first time forever.”

As Stiles continued, Peter exhaled.  His pupils widening slightly as he couldn’t help but imagine the scenario he was painting. He stroked himself, unable to stop a small sound from escaping his lips. A whine of sorts, what was he, 12?

“That’s it Peter, just listen to the sound of my voice.” Stiles approved. “I think you’d let me take command of the situation. I think you’d even expose your throat to me and silently beg me to take a bite. I would. I would take your skin and suck on it.”

“Stiles…” Peter rasped. The hard part was it was true. He’d always wanted someone to claim him, to _want_ him.

“Shit, I’m so horny right now I could fuck anything.” Stiles whimpered as he fiddled with his own pants. “Where was I?” He swallowed. “Your throat.” He smiled brightly as if he had just found the last piece of evidence in a game of clue and won. “I’d worship your throat. Run my tongue over it.” He pulled at his hair in obvious frustration. “Jesus, Peter. You can’t tell me you don’t want this. Not anymore. Where the fuck are you?”

Peter kept palming himself as he watched Stiles do similar on the screen. Neither of them could see what the other was doing. They could only watch each other’s faces. “I’m…” he gasped. He was going to come. He shuddered violently at the force of it and Stiles watched in rapt appreciation. “Nowhere near you.” He was still shivering.

“Then I’ll come to you.” Stiles declared abruptly, “I don’t care if you’re in the ninth circle of hell, Peter. I will fucking kill the devil if I have to.”

“I’m in Houston.”  Peter kicked himself mentally for being weak.

“What?”

“I was coming to you.” Peter whimpered. “I just got stuck here.”  He could feel his teeth wanting to pop out. The wolf was high in the surface of his conscious and he just wanted to change, howl, hunt, find and fuck his mate. Not necessarily in that order.

“You got stuck in fucking _Huston_?”  Now Stiles was just annoyed.

Peter just looked at him and rattled off the name of the motel he was staying at.

“Houston!” Stiles' incredulous expression would be funny if Peter was in the mood to laugh.

Peter wasn’t though.

“That’s the least romantic place in the whole world, Peter.” Stiles frowned.

“I’m not here for romance.” Peter scowled right back.

Stiles took a long slow breath. “What if I want to be?”

“What happened to your grand plan of breaking me down?” Peter lifted an eyebrow.

“I would like to point out that I just phone sexed you and you came like a teenager.” Stiles said smugly.

“That was not sex.”

“Close enough.”

“You’re not joining me here, Stiles.” Peter stood up. “I’m leaving in the morning anyway. I’ll call you when I get to DC.”

“You promise that you’re coming to me?” Stiles asked carefully. “Please don’t tease me.”

“I’m coming to you.” Peter nodded firmly. “Now let me sleep, I’ll see you soon Stiles.”

Stiles sighed and nodded softly.

Peter hung up the phone and fell into his bed. It wasn’t until the next day that he realized that he had made a promise to actually make it to DC. He had enjoyed talking to Stiles, it had been unexpected really.

Maybe it would work, what did he know? There was no question that he was in love with Stiles. The problem was Stiles. How long could it really last? Was he setting himself up for heartbreak? Only time would tell.

Peter fell asleep for the first time without nightmares.

It seems Stiles’ voice was a drug he could take after all.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good things come to those who procrastinate and make other people wait.

Peter made it to Washington, much to his surprise and after a lot of hesitation. Stiles had called a few times but he didn’t answer because he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to talk to Stiles in person, not on the phone. There was some texting back and forth but Peter didn’t really like the phone that much. Too impersonal, he couldn’t read Stiles’ face or smell him and facetime just made his wolf whine pitifully. He tried to explain to Stiles who said he’d understood and not to worry about it. It didn’t make him feel any better.

He stared at his phone as he paced in the bottom floor of the building he knew Stiles lived in. His wolf didn’t want to go up. There were too many smells. Too much young testosterone. He could smell the little punks everywhere and it made his skin crawl. He finally stalked up the four flights of stairs to Stiles’ room having rehearsed everything he was going to say in his head. He knocked on the door and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. Stiles wrenched it open and stared at him. Before Peter could say anything, he grabbed Peter’s bag and Peter and hauled him inside. He pressed Peter up against the door and glared at him. He opened his mouth and Stiles reached up to put his hand over it. “Don’t talk, you’ll just ruin it.”  Stiles growled. He waited for a moment for Peter to settle down and nod before he removed his hand.

His place was small, a one bedroom and he didn’t have a roommate which is something Peter was eternally grateful for.  It would have been awkward otherwise. Stiles had a bit of a beard which looked adorable and Peter wanted nuzzle it. His hair was a little too long and he had filled out more. “FBI Training program.” Stiles smiled as he noticed Peter eyeing his arm muscles. He tugged at his and pulled it off.  Peter stared. He was toned and lean, of course he’d always been lean and a bit gangly but he filled out. “Just so we’re clear. We’re going to fuck.”  He gestured between the two of them. “If you don’t want it, shake your head now.”

Peter just smirked, indicating his complete agreement of this plan.

“Off,” Stiles gestured at Peter’s clothing. He grinned rather maniacally. 

Peter raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t think Stiles knew how.

“Oh I know a thing or two,” Stiles laughed. “Bedroom is that way.”  He watched eagerly as Peter carefully stripped. He stared, licked his lips and exhaled. “God,” Stiles sighed in pleasure. “You’re gorgeous.”

Peter knew that, and almost opened his mouth to respond until he saw the look in Stiles’ eyes. Apparently he wasn’t allowed to talk. Okay then, he simply sashayed into the bedroom like he owned the place.

“I can’t believe you’re mine, or will be, I’ve got to get this right, don’t I?” Stiles muttered half to himself, half to Peter. “You’re bigger up close.” He stared at Peter’s cock and swallowed. “Of course you are. You’re … Shoot I’m a little nervous.” He had to admit. “But I want to make sure you understand something. I am staking my claim?” He gestures with a little flailing wrist towards Peter.

Peter’s eyebrows climbed.

“Okay, jackass. What I’m trying to say is: As of now, this minute, I Mieczyslaw Stilinksi claim you, Peter Hale as mine.” Stiles straightened and gave the older man a look that practically dared Peter to object.

Peter’s eyebrows couldn’t be any higher.

“So uh, yeah, deal with it.” Stiles stalked forward. “Tell me now if you don’t want this.”

Peter titled his head slightly, exposing his throat.

The action nearly made Stiles swoon. He almost balked his resolve. He stared at Peter and his exposed throat, confused for a moment.  “Oh!” He smiled. He slunk over and let his fingers explore Peter’s wide chest. “Mmm,” he gave a gleeful little grin.

Peter rolled his eyes and still. His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned on the bed.

Stiles gazed at Peter’s perfect neck. The man was built like a Greek god and he was almost too chicken to ruin the illusion. No, he was a Stilinski! Stilinski men did not back down from a challenge. Especially not from this man who had been a thorn in his side for years. He was going to take the plunge and damn the torpedoes. He placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders and leaned forward. He felt Peter twitch slightly as he pressed a gentle kiss on his perfect collar bone. He worked his way up to his neck and latched onto his skin.  He was no wolf, he couldn’t give a proper mate bite but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be because he didn’t try.

Peter’s uncoiled his arms and rested his hands on Stiles’ hips. He shivered. A small plaintive sound escaped his lips.

Stiles pulled back to admire the redness before it faded away. He looked at Peter. “What?”

Peter crushed his lips against Stiles, and pulled their bodies together.

Stiles gasped as the older man’s tongue stabbed into him without mercy, he could barely breathe. Hands were all over his body. Peter swept over him hot and heavy and Stiles was almost overwhelmed. It was so good it made his head spin.  “Wait, wait!” Stiles panted as he clutched at Peter.

“What?” Peter pulled his head up from where he’d been nibbling on Stiles jaw. He had also been in the process of pulling up Stiles’ shirt. “Why?”  He frowned as he wondered what it was he did wrong.

“Just, hold on a minute.” Stiles exhaled. He reached up to brush at the back of Peter’s neck, reassuring him. “Is this real?” He asked the wolf softly.

“Stiles, I let you bite me.” Peter looked annoyed. He kept his hands on Stiles’ hips and grinded against him, clearly impatient.

“Haven’t I said before that’s not how we answer questions!?” Stiles sighed. “I just want to make sure you aren’t going to be gone when I wake up. If you’re gone when I wake up I’m going to be pissed. Then I’m going to hunt your ass down and plug you with my gun.”

“I don’t have any plans to rush out.” Peter smiled around a mouthful of teeth. “Now, can we get on with the sex? I think I’ve waited long enough. Wait, you have a gun? What idiot gave you a gun?”

“The FBI. Well, I don’t have it _here_.” Stiles rolled his eyes. “It’s at the facility. I can’t actually walk out with a gun without having a badge and permit and hours and hours of practice”

“Thank god for that, you’d shoot your toe off.”

Stiles just threw him a dirty look.

Peter smiled the kind of smile that was predatory yet somehow endearing at the same time. He shoved Stiles onto the double bed and crawled up his body, kissing at any bit of exposed skin he could find. “I think you need this off now.” Peter tugged at the shirt and barely resisted the urge to tear it off.

He had gone through a lot as he waited for this moment, his moment. He was being touched again without fear, without loathing. Someone wanted to touch him, to get through to his heart and dig into the depths of his burned out soul. Someone wanted to hold on to whatever specs of life were left and fan the sparks to bright beacons of light. Someone wanted him, and it was an old almost forgotten feeling yet no less potent. Peter knew that he would hang on to those specs of light. Peter knew that even a man as twisted and ruined as he was could manage to find some way to resurrect his burned-out heart if he wanted to, and he did.

Stiles brushed at Peter’s forehead and traced the worry lines down to his chin. “What is it?” He asked as the man settled between his legs and began to kiss his exposed skin. The air was a little chilly but it wasn’t the only thing that caused his nipples to harden in anticipation of Peter’s lips.

Peter shook his head, he didn’t want to be cliché or say something stupid. He didn’t want to ruin the moment because odds were one of them would say something sarcastic. He had been waiting his whole life for someone to touch him the way Stiles did. He’d waited so long to actually feel something for another person when it had turned out to be a snide teenage boy it had almost devastated him. “Just glad to be here.” He smiled and ran his hand up and down Stiles’ thigh. “I’m taking it you don’t mind if I want to be inside you?”

“No, I mean, Oh! Yes, I’m totally okay with that!” Stiles nodded enthusiastically and remembered to at least breathe. He played with Peter’s hair as he tried to calm down. “Peter?” asked Stiles.

Peter was in part glad Stiles was the sort to be prepared as much as possible for sexual encounters. But he also kind of wanted to tear apart anyone who had ever touched him, some of the stuff in there had been used a lot. Not today, though. He took the half-empty bottle of lube from the bedside drawer. “What?” He asked casually. Like Stiles was about to ask him the time of day and he wasn’t squirming with pleasure as long fingers stroked his hair.

“Just-,” Stiles sighed. “Ah, fuck it. I love you.” He kissed Peter hard, smashing their tongues together and getting as much as he possibly could from the wolf’s mouth.

Peter smirked. His wolf howled with joy but he wasn’t going to let on how much that meant to him. Not yet.  He’d let Stiles sweat a bit because he was what he was. “Of course you do,” he chortled as he slipped his finger inside Stiles. “What’s not to love? I’m amazing.”

“You’re something alright,” laughed Stiles. He twitched and groaned as Peter opened him up and carefully explored him. “You don’t have to treat me so damned … fuck. I’m not a fucking virgin.”

Peter laughed at him, “You’re not? You’re sure you’ve had a cock up this? You’re awfully tight.” He wiggles his finger in to confirm it.

Stiles groaned, “Not for a while.” He admitted. “Okay, not a lot. A couple of times but that’s it.”

“Any particular reason? I find it hard to believe the freshmen here wouldn’t take a chance at this ass.” Peter smacked it playfully. He slipped another finger in.

“I had plenty of opportunities!” Stiles huffed. “They just weren’t what I really wanted.”

“And what was that?”

“You.”

“Oh,” Peter grinned widely, pleased. He kissed Stiles’ collar bone. “And how does it feel to have your dreams come true?” He twisted his fingers inside and stretched Stiles leisurely.

“The dream is incomplete without an honest to god howl of pleasure from you.” Stiles said cheekily. 

“You want a full-on werewolf howl in the middle of Washington DC?” Peter raised his eyebrows and jerked his fingers a little against a particularly sensitive spot. “Do you have any idea what shit is in this city? Imagine Beacon Hills and then multiply that by a hundred. You don’t even want to know what’s under the White House.”

Stiles reached up and kissed Peter again, he chuckled softly as the wolf’s eyes softened and played with his hair. “We can take them.” He was confident.

Peter drew his fingers out, “Enough pillow talk.” He positioned his cock, delighted by the shudder of anticipation that rippled through Stiles’ body. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for?”

“I have an idea.” Stiles gripped Peter’s shoulders.  “C’mon, Peter. Are you waiting for an invitation or something?” He lifted his hips up.

Peter slid his way inside with a low groan. This, he knew, this was something he’d never stop wanting. He felt Stiles’ clench around him and try to relax, then clench again. A sign of someone clearly not used to this. He was pleased.

Stiles mumbled, “Ugh…your cock is huge. Give me a minute.”

Peter laughed, “Nobody’s complained before.”

“How many Nobodies is that?” Stiles griped. He apparently suddenly realized that it was okay to touch wherever he wanted at this point, so he did. He lightly traced Peter’s back muscles and his thick, gloriously perfect neck as he attempted to focus on something else and relax as he was filled. He could scarcely believe that Peter was his now.

Peter certainly didn’t mind the attention. He started to move and Stiles felt perfect underneath him. They fit together, they were made for each other. He was afraid of screwing up but what he was most afraid of was disappointing Stiles. He didn’t want to ever see that face again. The face Stiles gave him when he attacked Scott in Mexico.

He would hold on this time. For himself, but also for Stiles. He was better now, himself again. He only wanted one thing. He wanted this to last. He really didn’t care where they went or what they did. He wanted to be with Stiles.  He’d do everything he could to prove that, even if it meant moving to DC for a few years. Stiles was the only person he’d ever care enough about to live until the end with.

He made it last long into the night and when morning came and Stiles was wrapped around him Peter found he didn’t want to move because he had something he thought he’d never have again.

He had a purpose.

He’d be alright now.

“Good morning,” he heard Stiles whisper. “I love you but I need to pee. Can you please move your heavy as fuck arm?”

He dutifully moved his arm and let Stiles wiggle out of the bed.

He could get used to this.

Peter smiled.

“I love you too, Stiles.”

**Fin**


End file.
